


The Competition

by littlelovelyspiderling



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Gaang (Avatar), Gaang (Avatar) as Family, Gen, Iroh (Avatar) is a Good Uncle, Platonic Relationships, Post-redemption Zuko, Tickling, Ticklish Zuko, Ticklish!Zuko, Zuko (Avatar) is an Idiot, Zuko (Avatar)-centric, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck, and doesn't understand why people care about him, and the gaang loves him for it, haha - Freeform, precious zuko, the gaang has never seen zuko laugh so they try to make it happen the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:15:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25253683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlelovelyspiderling/pseuds/littlelovelyspiderling
Summary: The avatar gang competes to see who can get Zuko to laugh first. Adorableness ensues.
Relationships: Aang & Zuko (Avatar), Iroh & Zuko (Avatar) (mentioned), Katara & Zuko (Avatar), Sokka & Zuko (Avatar), The Gaang & Zuko (Avatar), Toph Beifong & Zuko
Comments: 21
Kudos: 968





	The Competition

“Zuko doesn’t emote much, does he?”

Katara was staring at the young Fire Nation prince as she said it. He was lying against Appa, fully asleep even though the sun had only set an hour ago. She had noticed that, if circumstances permitted it, Zuko tended to rise and fall with the sun, waking at sunrise before anyone else to meditate in the soft morning glow, then nodding off quickly after the last whispers of light had vanished behind the horizon. Perhaps it had something to do with fire benders’ dependency on the sun: the way it fueled their strength and abilities, just as she drew power from the moon. 

Whatever the reason, it was amusing—the way he conked out like a baby polar leopard long before anyone else in the group had even considered turning in for the night. 

Sokka scoffed, tearing eagerly into a strip of salmon jerky. “Are you kidding me?” he said between bites. “The guy yells every other sentence that leaves his mouth. How is that not emotive?”

“He does have a bit of a temper,” Aang admitted, shooting an anxious glance in Zuko’s direction before continuing. “But it’s something he’s told me he’s working on. I think being angry is like his base temperature, so we should try to be patient with him.”

Aang grinned enthusiastically. Katara shook her head. 

“I know he’s good at expressing his anger. I guess I meant emoting in more... _positive_ ways. He barely ever smiles, and I don’t think I’ve ever heard him laugh before.” She stared at him sullenly. “Do you think he’s all right?”

The rest of the group followed her gaze to the slumbering teenager. The campfire in the center of their circle rose and fell with his steady breathing. 

“He does have a lot going on, what with the having to betray his nation and leave his home and help Aang defeat his dad and all,” Toph pointed out. “But I think you’re reading this wrong, Katara. Maybe Zuko just doesn’t express happiness the same way we do. Maybe it’s more subtle.” She popped a berry into her mouth. “But that doesn’t mean he’s not enjoying being here with us.”

Katara crossed her arms in thought. “Yeah,” she conceded. “Maybe.” She turned back to the group with a line between her eyes. “It just...makes me sad. It’d be nice to see him be unsubtly happy for a change, wouldn’t it? I know all of your laughs and smiles by heart at this point. I feel like I’ll never know him completely until I recognize his.”

The only times Zuko ever flagrantly expressed himself were when he was shouting angrily about something or shooting awake from another horrendous nightmare, drenched in a cold sweat with tears shining in the corners of his eyes. Happy emotions were restricted to tiny smiles that vanished in a heartbeat and the slightest lift in his otherwise level voice. Katara wondered what kinds of hardships he’d endured to make him this way. What cruel forces had forged him into the teenager that slept by their side—a person who shrunk from joy like it was dangerous, poisonous. 

Aang sprung to his feet suddenly, making the others wince in surprise. “Ooh, ooh!” he exclaimed excitedly. “I know what to do! We should have a competition!”

The group sat in silence for a moment. “A...competition?” Sokka parroted, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah!” Aang cheered, pointing at the still-sleeping Zuko. “Whoever can get Zuko to laugh first wins!”

The gang exchanged a look of confusion and intrigue. It was such a silly proposition. 

“And I mean _really_ laugh,” he elaborated. “Like, Sokka-after-Toph-inhaled-fire-flakes laugh.”

Sokka burst into giggles at the mention of the incident while Toph frowned at her feet. “Oho man, that was the best!” he cackled, wiping his eyes.

“Yeah, like that!” Aang continued exuberantly. “For the next few days, all of us should try to make Zuko do the Zuko-equivalent of _that._ And whoever gets him to do it first wins!”

Katara grinned at the idea. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t imagine what Zuko’s laugh might sound like. She needed to hear it firsthand, which would clearly require creativity on their end. Her mind was already grasping for potential leads. 

“I like it,” she decided. “Are there any rules?”

Aang tapped his chin in thought. “Hmm. No telling Zuko about the competition or what we’re trying to do. That’ll spoil it. We also have to take turns trying to make him laugh—as in, you can’t try something once then immediately try something else; everyone has to go again before you get to take another stab at it. And everyone has to witness it happening and agree on the winner for it to count.”

Sokka stretched his arms over his head with a smirk. “Well then, the rest of you might as well duck out now. Everyone knows I’m the king of gut-busting jokes and sarcasm. Sokka’s got this in the bag.”

“The Air Nomads are famous for having great senses of humor,” Aang retorted cheerfully. “I’ve got an entire cultural heritage of making people laugh on my side. Don’t count me out just yet.”

Katara rolled her eyes. “You guys are so conceited. Always thinking your _hilarious_ wit is the answer to everything.”

Aang and Sokka shared a puzzled scowl. “What’s your plan then, Miss Anti-Humor?” Sokka asked. 

Katara colored. “Um, w-well—” Her eyes darted around their campsite before landing on Momo. She scooped the lemur off the ground and placed him on her head. “I’ll make him laugh with fun! See? Fun!”

Momo warbled lazily as Sokka shook his head. “You’d best leave this to the experts, Katara. Fun hasn’t ever exactly been your _thing.”_

Momo leapt off her head as Katara pouted. “We’ll see,” she grumbled.

“What if none of us find a way to make Zuko laugh?” Toph inquired. “What happens then?”

“Those sound like the words of someone who is going _down!”_ Sokka cried triumphantly. Aang shrugged. 

“Then I guess we just keep trying.”

Toph pursed her lips before hinting a smile. “All right. I’m in.” She polished off her handful of berries. “Oh, and I’m one hundred percent winning this thing.”

“That’s the spirit!” Aang said. He pumped his fist in the air. “The competition begins at daybreak tomorrow!”

The group settled in for the night, brainstorming their own series of elaborate, laugh-inducing schemes to test out in the morning. Zuko slept soundly, unaware of what awaited him once he woke.

* * *

“You seem distracted.”

Aang blinked, his focus snapping back to the tranquil cliffside and the scowling firebender standing in front of him.

“Oh, uh, distracted?” he said, balling his hands at his sides with an innocent smile. “No, I’m not distracted.”

“Then get it right this time,” Zuko snapped, assuming a low stance. “Kick up, recenter, then punch out. Fire comes from the breath, so exhale at the peak of your move, not a second too early or late.”

Zuko demonstrated the action again, thrusting his foot in the air, reclaiming his balance, then jabbing his fist forward, flames gliding and shooting with his movements in perfect harmony. A burst of fire exploded from his knuckles at the end of the move, sending a wave of heat washing over Aang.

Aang winced back and swallowed. “Right. I’m sure I’ll have it down in no time.” A smile seized his features. “But before I do that, I have a surprise for you!”

Zuko’s fierce expression shifted to puzzled. “What?” he said, relaxing out of his solid stance for a moment. 

“Wait right there!” Aang said, then darted away, disappearing behind Appa. Zuko huffed, crossing his arms against his chest. 

“If you’re trying to bribe me out of today’s lesson, it’s not going to work. You still have five sets of fire lunges to get through.”

“It’s not a bribe!” Aang’s voice insisted from afar, echoing down the cliff side. “It’s just a token of appreciation—you know, for joining the group and being such a wonderful firebending teacher.” 

He reappeared with a giant grin on his face and his hands hidden behind his back. The rest of the gang sat around their campsite, looking unusually interested in Aang and Zuko’s training session. 

Zuko scanned the avatar warily as he approached. Aang stopped a few feet back, chipper as always. 

“Are you ready?” he asked, smiling wide.

“I guess,” Zuko deadpanned. 

Aang extended his hands forward, revealing his gift. “Ta-da!” he exclaimed.

Zuko blinked. It was...a cake. Of some sort. A small, round pastry with some kind of red jelly in the center. It was surprisingly professional-looking, especially considering they were out in the woods with no markets or ovens nearby. 

“I baked it for you with firebending!” Aang explained. “I even flavored the center with fire gummies so it’d taste like home.”

Zuko was taken back by the thoughtful gesture. This all felt largely unwarranted. “Um,” he said, scratching the back of his head. “Thanks? I guess?”

Aang held it out eagerly. “Go on, try it! It’s an old Air Nomad recipe. It’s really good!”

“I’ll try it after we’re done training,” Zuko said, re-assuming his power stance. “Now then—show me the move I just demonstrated for you.”

“Aw, come on,” Aang whined. “Just one bite! Please? I promise you won’t—”

Aang staggered forward suddenly, tripping over his own foot. He hoped it didn’t look too staged—like falling with the cake in his hands _hadn’t_ been his plan all along. The alarm that crossed Zuko’s expression indicated his performance was a success. Zuko tried lunging forward to help him, but it was too late—with a yelp, Aang face-planted into his culinary creation, splattering cake and jelly at the prince’s feet. 

A beat passed where Zuko just stood there, mouth agape. Then the rest of the group exploded into hysterical laughter, gripping their stomachs and doubling over themselves.

“Ohokay, that was pretty good,” Sokka admitted between giggles.

“Look at Twinkle Toes, starting things off _strong,”_ Toph agreed.

Aang lifted his face out of the cake, letting the goo and batter slip off for a moment to enhance the effect. At the very least, he expected a smile to cross Zuko’s lips. Instead, he just looked startled. 

“Aw, man,” he said, offering him a hand. “Are you okay?”

Behind the layer of flattened pastry, Aang frowned. “Yeah, of course,” he said. “I just tripped.”

“Sorry about the cake. It, uh, sounded like you worked hard on it.”

The others were still cackling like hyena bats behind them. Aang swiped his hand across his cake-covered face bemusedly. It didn’t make sense. Why wasn’t Zuko laughing?

“But don’t you think it’s funny?” he asked. “That I, you know, tripped and fell face-first into it?”

Zuko narrowed his eyes. “Do you...want me to think it’s funny?”

“Kinda! I don’t know. Everyone else does.”

The firebender wasn’t sure how to respond. “You worked hard on something, and now it’s ruined. That’s already bad enough. I didn’t want to make you feel worse.”

Aang couldn’t believe how spectacularly his plan had failed. Everything had gone perfectly except for Zuko’s reaction. This might be harder than he thought. He dropped his face back into the cake, groaning in defeat. While the others continued giggling, Zuko placed his hands on his hips.

“Let’s, uh, break from training for today. We can pick up where we left off tomorrow.”

Aang gave a halfhearted thumbs up as the prince walked away. Zuko: 1, Aang: 0.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was around lunch time when Sokka made his move. The rest of the group watched in anticipation as the next competitor approached their target. 

“Hiya, Zuko!” Sokka greeted him. The teen sat by the fire pit with the others, eating a bowl of soup. 

“Hi...Sokka,” he addressed him hesitantly, popping the spoon out of his mouth. “Can I help you?”

Sokka jabbed his index finger into the air. “As a matter of fact, you can! I have a very important question to ask you.”

Zuko shot dubious looks at the other members of the group before sitting up a little straighter. “Okay,” he said. 

Clearing his throat, Sokka broke into a grin. “Why are firebenders always the slowest runners?”

Zuko thought on it for a moment. A frown wrinkled his features. “We are?”

“Because they get too easily burnt out!” Sokka howled, laughing wildly at his own joke, slapping his knee and hugging his belly. Zuko just stared at him, blinking his strikingly golden eyes. A few seconds later, the tiniest of smiles lifted one corner of his mouth.

“Oh, I get it,” he said. “That’s funny.”

Toph, Aang, and Katara giggled softly behind their hands—more out of pity than anything else. Sokka gawked.

“Wait—that’s _it?”_

Zuko tilted his head slightly. “What’s it?”

“I spent all night coming up with that joke!”

“I said it was funny,” Zuko said defensively.

“If you thought it was funny, why didn’t you _laugh?”_

Zuko downed the rest of his soup and shrugged sheepishly. “I’m...sorry?”

The rest of the gang snickered into their palms. Sokka groaned.

“Wait, wait—one more chance,” he pleaded, more to the others than to Zuko. Zuko had no idea why it was suddenly so important that he found Sokka’s jokes hilarious. Recovering part of his trampled dignity, Sokka coughed, then tried again.

“What do you get when you dunk Momo in a pitcher of lemon juice?” 

Zuko sighed, leaning back with his hands folded behind his head. “Gee, I don’t know, Sokka. What _do_ you get when you dunk Momo in a pitcher of lemon juice?” 

Sokka’s eyebrow twitched crossly. Patronizing, much? “Lemurnade,” he muttered out. “You—you get lemurnade.”

At that, Aang cracked up, his laughter ringing like a bell. “Haha! Good one, Sokka!”

Sokka hung his head. “Thanks, Aang,” he mumbled, then sulked away, heavily chagrined. Zuko watched him go, feeling like he’d done something wrong.

“What’s his deal?” he asked the group. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Toph assured him, stifling a snort. “That’s just Sokka being Sokka.”

Zuko furrowed his brow. Was it just him, or were all of them acting...strange? It felt like they were paying more attention to him than normal, and hanging on his every response to their interactions like it was life or death. Around these guys, he preferred to fade into the background rather than be center stage; they were all such good friends, and they had so much history together, whereas he...well, they had history, all right, but not exactly the good kind. He found he was perfectly content listening to them talk from the sidelines, only joining the conversation when he was directly addressed. 

After lunch, the group headed to a nearby stream to wash off and cool down. Zuko stood at the edge of the riverbank, watching Momo paw at the minnows in the shallow pools between the reeds, when Katara tapped him on the shoulder.

“Hey Zuko,” she said, looking artificially high-spirited. “You want to see something fun?”

Zuko gave her a questioning look. “Fun?” he repeated, turning to face her. _What is with everyone today?_ He hunched his shoulders. “Um...okay.”

Zuko didn’t know what he was expecting her to do—propose some kind of group activity, show off a new waterbending move, maybe—but it certainly wasn’t her placing both hands on his chest and shoving him full-force into the river. The prince yelped and flailed, teetering frantically on the edge of the bank before tipping backwards and dropping into the water with a splash. Zuko resurfaced a few seconds later, his wet hair sticking to his face, his eyes wide. Immediately, the group erupted into a chorus of laughter, making the firebender blush.

“W-what on _earth,_ Katara?” he stammered, slicking his hair back so it wasn’t falling in his eyes. “What was _that_ for?”

“For fun, of course!” she exclaimed nervously, as if she was trying to convince herself. “Wasn’t that fun?”

“Not really!” he growled. He clambered up the riverbank, griping and grumbling the whole time, steam rising off his thoroughly soaked clothing. The others continued to giggle at his dripping, disheveled appearance. “What part of that was supposed to be _fun?”_

“I thought it was pretty fun,” Sokka chuckled from the opposite side of the river. Zuko reddened beneath their stares and quickly turned away, crossing his arms against his chest.

“Sorry, Zuko,” Katara said. “Here.”

Using her bending, she pulled the water out of his clothes so he was dry again. Zuko scratched at his wild mess of hair, eyeing Katara thoughtfully.

After a pause, Zuko made a rash decision. His arms jerked forward before he could talk himself out of it, pushing Katara into the river, making her fall faster than she could react. She hit the water with a shriek, sending waves in every direction. The rest of the group gaped.

“Hey!” Katara gasped as she broke the surface, hands balled into fists. Zuko smirked.

“I take it back. You’re right, Katara. That is pretty fun.”

The others laughed again, and Katara eventually joined them, drawing the water from her hair and flinging it playfully at Zuko. Zuko flinched back with a smile, but that was the closest she got: still no progress on the laughing end. Not even the tiniest giggle. 

It looked like The Water Tribe siblings had struck out as well.

* * *

Toph’s decision to strike at night had been her plan from the start. Laughter always flowed more organically after dark, after all. The more tired you were, the more funny things seemed—even things that arguably weren’t that funny in the first place.

The light from their campfire gilded the group in an orange sheen. Zuko blinked sleepily, watching the flames lap toward the night sky, his golden eyes reflecting the glow in an arrestingly brilliant way. She waited until his heartbeat began to slow before executing her plan. While Sokka studied a map of the Fire Nation, Katara charted the stars, and Aang scratched Momo’s tummy, Toph rose to her feet.

“Watch this,” she said out of nowhere. Then she pounded her heel into the ground, causing the earth underneath Sokka to jump up like a spring, shooting him high into the air. Sokka screamed in surprise, bounced between the branches of a nearby tree, then crashed to the ground with a grunt. 

Katara and Aang’s jaws dropped open. Spitting and sputtering, Sokka scrambled to his hands and knees in a befuddled fury. _“Toph!”_ he screeched, leaves and twigs sticking out of his hair.

Toph busted out laughing while everyone just stared. When she realized no one else was joining her, her giggles gradually petered away. 

“What? You guys didn’t think that was funny?” 

“It was certainly...surprising?” Aang ventured to say.

“A bit violent, though,” Katara added.

“A _bit?”_ Sokka cried, wagging his arms through the air. “She catapulted me into a _tree!”_

Toph snorted. “Well _I_ thought it was hilarious. Zuko?”

All eyes turned to gauge the prince’s reaction. They were stunned to see his body slack and his head lolled to one side. Their resident firebender was out cold, sleeping peacefully. 

With a huff, Toph flopped to the ground. “Are you kidding me? That was some of my best material!”

“Wow,” Aang mused, resting his chin on his kneecaps. “I can’t believe how big of a bust today was.”

“Seriously! I laughed at everything everyone tried with him! All of us are objectively hilarious, but still nothing!” Sokka jabbed an angry finger at Toph before she could respond. “ _Not_ you, Toph. I’m going to be picking bugs out of my hair for weeks!” He slumped to the ground, gazing at Zuko through the flickering tongues of fire. “Man! What’s it gonna take to get this guy to laugh?”

Toph shrugged. “Maybe I was right. Maybe laughing just isn’t the way he expresses happiness.”

“That can’t be true,” Katara stated indignantly. “We’ve just got to keep trying. Maybe in Fire Nation culture, royalty aren’t allowed to laugh or something, and he’s still stuck in that mindset. All we need to do now is find the right way to draw him out of it.”

“First dancing is outlawed, now _laughing?”_ Sokka slapped his forehead. “Why is the Fire Nation so obsessed with destroying all things fun?”

Toph swirled her finger in the air. “Or maybe you’re all just not as funny as you think you are.”

While Sokka viciously protested Toph’s proposal, Aang narrowed his eyes and stuck out his bottom lip. “If we’re determined to make Zuko laugh, we have to find out what _he_ thinks is funny. Perhaps his sense of humor is just different from ours.” Aang smiled at his friends. “Don’t worry, guys. I have a plan.”

* * *

Zuko yawned and rubbed his eyes as he strolled up the quiet hillside. The grass shivered in the cool breeze and the sky was a painting of pinks and purples and blues. 

Morning meditation was a drag sometimes, but it helped him clear his head, reorient his senses, and tame his inner fire. Plus, after his haunting betrayal in Ba Sing Se, it was one of the only ways he could still feel connected to his uncle. Uncle was the person who taught him the value of disciplined meditation—a practice he hadn’t realized wasn’t widely exercised among firebenders until he was older. Rather, it was actually an Air Nomad tradition Iroh had picked up and passed on to his nephew. 

Sticking to his uncle’s mindful regime didn’t make Zuko feel better about what he’d done, but...it was something. A small memento to Iroh’s unconditional kindness and wisdom that he could maintain, even if he never got the chance to redeem himself.

As Zuko rounded the crown of the hill, he was surprised to see smoke rising from their campsite. The others were usually still asleep by the time he got back. He heard chatter and the sound of something hissing over the fire. A wave of smells washed over him that was oddly familiar—warm, spicy, nostalgic. 

“Zuko!” Aang cried once the prince stepped into view. The sleepy teenager was shirtless and wore pants that cut off just above his kneecaps. He tended to run hot, being a firebender and all, so it wasn’t an unusual sight. The others popped up excitedly and grinned, as if they’d been waiting for him.

“What’s going on?” Zuko asked, kneading the heel of one hand into his eye. He sniffed the air and frowned. “Are you...cooking jook?”

“Yeah! And ash banana bread!” Katara presented a hefty portion of each for him. “Aang swung by the market at the base of the mountain and found all the ingredients.”

Zuko blinked at the offering then between his four friends. “This is Fire Nation food,” he said.

“Is it!” Sokka agreed. “Well, our attempt at it, anyway.”

“You guys hate Fire Nation food,” Zuko continued skeptically. “Why are you making it?”

“Just because we hate the Fire Nation doesn’t mean we hate all Fire Nation food,” Toph said, wrinkling her nose. “Although, I think I’ll pass on the jook.”

Sokka took a large bite of banana bread. “And even if we did hate it, it doesn’t matter. _You_ like Fire Nation food, right?”

Zuko hadn’t realized how much he’d missed the delicacies of his country until now. After weeks of eating nothing but what they could forage and hunt in the wild, his stomach ached for an authentic taste of home. 

“Yeah,” he finally answered, still unsure what all this was leading to.

“Great! Because we made this for you!” Sokka slurped up a spoonful of jook and smiled wide.

Warily, Zuko accepted the bowl and the bread from Katara. He didn’t know what to say, other than—

“Why?”

Aang cocked his head to one side. “Why what?” he asked. 

“Why...did you make this for me?”

The group exchanged a look, like that was the silliest question they’d ever heard. Toph chuckled. 

“Because we like you, stupid. You're our friend, and we like doing things that make you happy.”

The words floated around his head for a while before seeping into his brain. Once they did, Zuko’s face flushed warm and pink. “Oh,” he said. He gazed into the steaming bowl in his hand. It looked just like the kind Uncle made for him. _Where is all this coming from?_ he wondered. _Was it something I did or said?_ This slew of kind gestures felt so undeserved and foreign, especially coming from the people he’d spent a significant portion of time terrorizing. A few moments later, a shy smile lifted the corners of his lips. 

“Well, thanks. I’m touched.”

“Here, sit,” Sokka said, scooting over to make room. Zuko sat down beside him and took a sip from his bowl. He brightened delightedly. 

“It’s great,” he said. _Not as good as Uncle’s_ , he conceded; Iroh had a much heavier hand with the ginger. But still great—better than he could ever make. He fidgeted beneath all their attentive stares. “You guys didn’t have to do this.”

“It was a lot of trouble,” Sokka admitted, earning a whack from Katara. He winced, rubbing the fresh bump on his head. “But— _ow_ —we were happy to do it.”

Aang floated into a sitting position on Zuko’s left, landing beside him like a leaf drifting delicately to the ground. “Speaking of happiness, I’ve been meaning to ask you: can you remember the hardest you’ve ever laughed in your life?”

It was a very bizarre and random inquiry, and didn’t seem at all like a natural segue in the conversation. But that appeared to be a theme among the avatar gang, so Zuko played along.

“Um,” he began, shifting to cross his legs on top of each other. “The hardest?” He grasped for a memory from his youth, but it was all so distant and fuzzy. Whispers and sprinkles of laughter buried beneath years of fear and obedience. Eventually, he shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe when I was little, with my mom. Or maybe with Uncle.”

He went back to his jook, thinking he’d satisfied their curiosity. Katara leaned toward him impatiently. 

“Maybe that’s too specific. How about the _happiest_ you’ve ever been? When was that?”

Zuko lowered the bowl from his lips and eyed Katara curiously. “The happiest I’ve ever been?” he repeated back. 

“Yeah! Like, what period of your life would you consider the most joy-filled?”

Another unexpected question. This was getting weirdly personal. He could sense there was an end goal to all this prying, but he had yet to pinpoint it. Zuko ran the back of his hand across his mouth. 

“Uh...well...again, I’m not sure.” He thought hard about it for a few seconds, trying to recall an era of his life when he’d felt happy— _truly_ happy, for an extended length of time. “I guess I remember _moments_ of being happy, but...not entire periods. Working at the Jasmine Dragon with Uncle was nice while it lasted. But even then, it felt kind of forced.” He nibbled at the ash banana bread. It was warm and cinnamon-y and tasted like autumn. He swallowed and hinted a smile. “But being here, helping you guys...I’d say this is the happiest I’ve ever been. Because for once in my life, I know I’m doing the right thing.”

The statement was small but sincere. As his words sunk in, the group mirrored his smile tenfold. They shared knowing looks with one another, each with the same thought in their head. _So this_ is _Zuko’s version of happy. It’s definitely different, definitely subtle, but it’s him—and it’s genuine._

Maybe Zuko didn’t laugh loudly or smile all the time. That didn’t mean he was sad or broken. He just had his own way of expressing joy. And that was okay. It was reassuring to know that Zuko was in a good place, even if he didn’t show it as obviously as the rest of them did. The competition wasn’t over yet—that was a given—but if they continued to fail, at least they knew it wasn’t because Zuko was upset or discouraged. 

“Aw, Zuko—ya big softy,” Sokka teased, poking him in the ribs. To his surprise, the prince jerked away from his touch, a small yelp escaping him. Zuko turned to him bewilderedly, eyes wide. _Oops_ , Sokka thought. Had he hurt him by accident? Maybe he had an injury he didn’t know about. He’d nearly made him drop his jook. 

“Oh, sorry,” Sokka said. “Are you okay?”

Zuko clenched his jaw. “Y-yeah,” he answered quickly, rubbing at his rib cage. “You—sorry, you just startled me.” 

He appeared flustered suddenly, like he was hiding something. Maybe he’d wounded himself in a really embarrassing way and didn’t want anyone else to find out about it, although he couldn't see an injury anywhere. Sokka looked to the others for insight, but none of them seemed to have noticed Zuko’s weird reaction to his touch. 

“This startled you?” he inquired suspiciously, poking him again, lower this time. Zuko responded the same way as before, flinching and squeaking like he was being electrocuted. But as Sokka watched his expression change, he realized he wasn’t wincing or grimacing in pain. Instead, a grin flashed across his face, bigger and brighter than he’d ever seen, then vanished a second later, smothered by a look of shock and anger. 

“Quit it!” he snapped, hopping to his feet. He pursed his lips to keep them from turning upright. 

Sokka recognized his response. He’d seen it from the kids in their Water Tribe village as they wrestled playfully with their mothers and one another. Katara, too, when they’d played as children. A devious smile gradually spread across Sokka’s face. _No way,_ he thought.

The rest of the group looked at Zuko confusedly but shrugged it off. He yelled a lot—it wasn’t anything new. Now was Sokka’s chance.

“Aang, let’s go. Time for your firebending lesson. We’ve got a lot to catch up on.”

He was talking rapidly, eager to abscond this situation before it escalated any further. Aang let out a disappointed groan.

“Okay,” he murmured, floating to his feet. Sokka stood with him.

_Oh no you don’t._

As Zuko turned to leave, Sokka ran up behind him, wrapping his arms around his midsection. 

“Sorry—one more time. _This_ startled you?”

With fiendish glee, he dug into his torso, wiggling his fingers into his belly and sides. Zuko yelped and flailed, not anticipating the surprise attack. He tried to pry Sokka’s hands away, but the Water Tribe teen was stronger than he looked. His flustered sputtering transformed into stifled squeaks. Two seconds later, the dam finally broke.

“Ahahaha!” Zuko belted out, grappling at Sokka’s hands as they clawed at his tummy. “S-Sohakka! Whahat are you _doohooing?”_

“Winning this competition, that’s what!” Sokka exclaimed. He poked and prodded at his ribs, making Zuko thrash and giggle. 

“Hahahagh! Gehet off me!”

Zuko broke Sokka’s hold and wrenched out of his grip, staggering forward so fast he fell to the ground. He rolled onto his back and scrambled a few more paces away, staring up Sokka in disbelief, blushing violently.

“W-what is _wrong_ with you?” he stammered, hugging his stomach protectively.

It took a moment for everyone to register what had just transpired. But as soon as it did, shock and delight sprawled across all of their faces. 

“You…”

“Did he just—?”

“Oh man! You did it!”

“Yeah I did!” Sokka cheered, striking a pose. “Told you I was gonna win this thing! Bow down to your champion!”

“Win _what_ thing?” Zuko growled, his face still tinted pink. He stood up nervously, scowling between them. “What’s going on here?”

“We’ve been playing a game to see who could get you to laugh first,” Aang explained. “None of us had ever heard you laugh before, so we wanted to try to make you do it. And now we finally have!”

“You mean _I_ have,” Sokka corrected him smugly.

The idea that they’d spent the past twenty-four hours committed to hearing his laugh puzzled him. Why did it matter what it sounded like? It wasn’t particularly important or helpful information to have. Why did they care so much about something so trivial? The situation was odd and embarrassing yet strangely heartwarming. But mostly embarrassing. Zuko hunched his shoulders crossly.

“ _That’s_ what all this weirdness has been about? Why didn’t you just tell me what you were doing?”

“Because we wanted it to happen naturally!” Katara said, throwing her hands in the air. “But apparently none of us are funny enough for your taste!”

The group giggled. Zuko wasn’t sure what to say. A smirk touched Toph’s lips.

“Huh. I never would’ve thought to try tickling you.” She placed her hands on her hips. “I guess I just didn’t expect the Grumpy McGrouchy Pants prince of the Fire Nation to be ticklish.”

“And that _laugh!”_ Sokka snickered. “Have you guys ever heard anything so adorable?”

Heat boiled to the surface of Zuko’s skin. “I’m not…!” he began, but he had no idea where he was going with this. For people who claimed to be his friends, they sure liked humiliating him and making him blush a lot. With an angry huff, he turned away. “Whatever. I’m going fishing.”

As he started to leave, Katara, Aang, Sokka, and Toph shared a wicked grin, locking down their next course of action without exchanging a single word. Sokka moved first, dashing after him and hooking his elbows underneath Zuko’s armpits, making the prince start.

“Hey!” he cried, struggling against his hold.

“You’re not _what,_ Prince Zuko? Not ticklish, or not adorable?”

Zuko burned inside and out. He tried to throw Sokka over his shoulder, but the other teen planted his feet and hoisted Zuko off the ground, taking all of his leverage with him. He kicked and floundered, feeling small and ridiculous.

“Let me go!” he demanded. 

“Either way, we’re obliged to prove you wrong.” Sokka beamed at the others, voice laced with mischief. “Get him, guys!”

Zuko opened his eyes to find Katara, Aang, and Toph approaching him, smirking with fiendish delight. This cued the prince to fight even harder to escape, his legs flailing through the air. 

“Besides, we only got to listen to you laugh for a few seconds,” Katara pointed out, curling her fingers into claws. “I’ll need to hear it a little longer than that to memorize it.”

“And to determine just how adorable it really is!” Aang added. 

There were a lot of things Zuko had dreaded facing after joining the avatar’s gang. His dark past, the Fire Nation’s tyrannical cruelty, his plethora of failures and mistakes. This, however, had _not_ been one of things he’d had in mind. 

Zuko considered heating up his hands just enough to make Sokka release him, but he didn’t want to betray the trust he had only just recently earned from all of them. If he accidentally burned another person on their team, he’d never forgive himself. 

Though perhaps that’d be worth avoiding the mortifying predicament he currently found himself in. 

“W-wahait!” he yelped, giggly dread amassing in his belly. He kicked in their direction to keep them from getting any closer. “Stay back!”

Sokka wrestled to keep the squirmy prince still. “Toph, a little help?” he called. 

Toph grinned and thrust her palms toward the sky. Two hands made of earth rose up from underneath Zuko and grabbed hold of his ankles. As she lowered her hands back down, the earth hands moved with hers, dragging his legs toward the ground then morphing into a pair of rock bonds encased around his feet, keeping them firmly trapped in place. 

_Oh no._ Zuko wriggled and wrenched, but there was nowhere for him to go. Unless he firebent his way out, he was defenseless. 

Before he could voice any more protests, Katara closed the space between them, her hands reaching his torso and scuttling up his bare sides. Zuko jolted and gasped, a giant smile lighting up his whole face despite his attempts to squash it.

“Ahahaheehee!” he giggled, squirming and shifting to try to get away. It was no use. Her fingers needled his exposed midsection freely and mercilessly, driving the sensitive prince absolutely nuts. The blush in his cheeks bled down his neck. “Wahait— _mmheh_ —ehahaha!”

“Not ticklish at all, I see,” Katara said smugly. “And certainly not adorable, no.” She scribbled her nails all over his belly, parroting his endearing smile. It was so big and radiant and happy—a hundred times more so than she ever could’ve imagined. His laugh was another matter entirely—bright, bubbly, hysterically shrill. Far too cute for the human language to articulate. Plus, _outrageously_ contagious.

“Stahahap it!” Zuko cackled, tugging uselessly at Sokka’s arms. The boy’s grip was like _iron._ Katara ignored him, testing and teasing every inch of his twitchy torso, kneading his tummy and pinching his sides and fluttering her fingers underneath his rib cage. He couldn’t _believe_ how much it tickled, or how wild his own laughter sounded. None of them had realized how loud and uncontrollable Zuko’s laugh could get until now—including himself. 

Two hands on his ticklish belly were already enough to drive the giggly prince out of his mind. Of all days to meditate shirtless, why did he have to choose _today?_ But then, to his horror, two more hands joined the fray, drilling into his hip bones with diabolical intensity and precision. Zuko bucked and squealed, his laughter reaching an entirely new caliber. 

“Ahahahaha!” he bubbled, shaking his head from side to side. “NohohahahAang!”

Zuko thought out of everyone present, the avatar would be the one to approach this situation with the most mercy and compassion. Boy, was he wrong. The airbender attacked his weak points like he’d been trained in the ancient art of tickle torture—as if tickling was a fifth element, and he’d already more than mastered it. 

“I can’t believe we went a whole day trying to be _funny_ to make you laugh when all you needed was a little tickling!” Aang chirped cheerfully. “I also can’t believe you made us go this long without hearing what your laugh sounds like. It’s so cute and happy! Why don’t you do it more often?” 

If Aang expected Zuko to reply, he wasn’t making it easy. He furrowed his brow and stuck out his tongue as he explored the prince’s sensitive midsection, working in tandem with Katara so that every tickle spot on his torso got a turn being poked and squeezed and stroked. Zuko couldn’t stand another second. 

“Guhuhuhuys!” he howled. This was a nightmare. Things couldn’t possibly get any worse. He had to make them _stop._

“Try tickling his ribs!” Sokka suggested suddenly, grinning with malicious glee. “He was super jumpy when I poked them before!” 

“Ooh, good idea!” Aang said. He skittered his hands up his sides then shook them viciously into his rib cage, making the poor teenager squawk.

The universe just _loved_ proving him wrong, didn’t it?

“NOHOHAHA!” he bellowed, throwing his head back, nearly hitting Sokka in the face. “Gaha! Youhou— _jerherherherks!_ Ahahahaaa!”

The gang giggled along with him without slowing their attack. “Hey, there’s the Zuko we all know and love,” Toph chuckled. She sat on top of his buried feet and began skating her nails against the backs and caps of his knees, drawing feathery circles into the sensitive skin and causing goosebumps to shoot up his legs. It was gentler than Aang and Katara’s cruel tickle tactics—a fact he had to be grateful for—but still contributed significantly to his overall state of flustered, twitchy hysteria. 

“Aw, look at you, Prince Zu-Zu! So smiley and giggly and squirmy!” Katara bunched up her hands and spidered her nails against his belly button, making Zuko shriek and thrash like a little kid. “I can’t believe we were ever afraid of your adorable little face! If only we’d known back then how easy it is to defeat you! Just a couple tickles here, a few pokes there…”

She moved her hands across his tummy while she spoke, wiggling her fingernails as they dragged along his skin, cooing at him the entire time. Meanwhile, Aang was absolutely wrecking his ribs, grinding his knuckles ruthlessly into the bone. 

“Right? He’s cuter than a baby turtle duck!” 

“No wonder his uncle adores him so much,” Toph agreed.

Zuko wanted to disintegrate. The relentless teasing was just as cruel as the six hands tickling him to pieces. He’d never been taunted or tickled to this extent before, and the only thing he could do about it was blush tomato-red and laugh himself silly. He didn’t consider himself to be that sensitive of a person, seeing that no one had really tickled him since he was a child, but the avatar and his crew were doing a pretty good job convincing him otherwise. At this point, his entire body was bright pink and sizzling like a space heater. 

“PLEEHEASE STAHAHAP!” Zuko begged, hiccups leaping from his throat and puncturing his endless giggle fit. No point in trying to retain some shred of dignity—every last drop had already been spent. “I CAHAN’T TAKE AHANYMORHORHOREHAHAHA!”

“Aw, but this is so fun,” Sokka pouted playfully, poking at his neck with the fingers that could reach. “You sure you can’t take just a _little_ more?”

“We haven’t even tickled your armpits yet!” Aang protested, immediately shoving his hands under his arms and wiggling his fingers against the hollows. It was a welcome break for his ribs, but also gave him giggly whiplash.

“AHAHAHACK!” Zuko squirmed helplessly, tears welling in the corners of eyes. He barely had the strength to even writhe in place anymore. “IHI’M—GOHONNA— _DIHIHIHIE!”_

Katara’s hands slowed to a halt against his sides, granting him a sudden rush of relief. “Okay, maybe we should stop,” she said, smiling sympathetically. “He does look pretty wiped.”

“He’s not going to die,” Toph assured the others with a chuckle. She took her hands off his knees. “Still, that’s probably a good idea.”

The absence of Katara and Toph’s tickling gave Zuko the chance to catch his breath a little. The relief was _astronomical._ Aang, however, had yet to let up, keeping the prince twitchy and giggly with his rib cage and underarm torment. 

“EhahahAang!” Zuko wheezed, wriggling helplessly. “Pleehease!”

Aang smiled wryly. “All right, I’ll stop,” he conceded, worming his fingers between each individual rib. “But first, you have to admit out loud that you’re adorable, because I’m still not convinced you believe it. Say that, and I’ll stop.”

Zuko thought it impossible for things to get any more embarrassing than they already were. Wrong again. Being disowned by his father and banished from the _Fire Nation_ hadn’t been as humiliating as the past five minutes. Now _this?_

The group grinned at him expectantly, waiting. Zuko shook his head.

“B-buhut—I—” he stuttered out between giggles. Then Sokka dug his hands into armpits, making him squeal with laughter and shrink into himself.

“No excuses!” he demanded playfully. “Go on! Say it!”

Zuko tried to thrash out of Sokka’s grip now that it wasn’t so tight, but Sokka still had a strong enough hold on him to keep him trapped—even while he was tickling him. He buried his face into his shoulder to hide his goofy smile and flushed cheeks. 

“Ahaha! Youhou’re—s-soho— _meahean!”_ To think that _he_ used to be the one considered cruel and evil. Ponytail Zuko had nothing on these diabolical tickle monsters and their degrading requests.

A moment later, Katara started squeezing his sides again, causing Zuko to twist and yelp. “We’re _mean?_ But look how happy we’re making you! If anything, you should be thanking us.”

Toph wiggled her fingers against the middle of his tummy. “We’re waiting, your highness.”

It was too much. He couldn’t bear it any longer. He needed this to end.

“OHOKAHAHAY!” he cackled, squirming and hiccuping and craving the sweet escape of death. “IHI’M—I ADMIHIHIT IT!”

“You admit what?” Aang asked, grinning innocently as he revved up his rib tickling to a maddening ferocity. Oh, he was _so_ getting them back for this.

“GAHAHA! FIHIHINE! I’MAHAHAHADORHORABLE!” He ducked his head, blushing brighter than their campfire. “NOHOW STAHAHAHAP! PLEEHEEHEASE!”

The group laughed and cheered at his miserable defeat, then finally ceased their attack. Katara and Aang stepped back as Toph freed his feet and Sokka released him from his grip. Zuko was left standing in the center of the team, panting and giggling dazedly, guarding his torso with his arms held tight to his skin. His whole body tingled and burned. His face hurt from smiling so much.

“Well, you heard it here first, folks—Zuko is adorable, and he knows it!”

“And he can laugh! Like, _actually_ laugh!”

“I guess he _can_ express happiness the same way we do. You just have to push the right buttons.”

“Was that emotive enough for you, Katara?”

Zuko was at his wit’s end. _Again_ , with the teasing? Couldn’t these guys give him a break? He was never going to hear the end of this for as long as he lived. Giggling breathlessly, he sunk to his hands and knees, making his friends flinch. 

“Whoa,” Katara exclaimed. “You all right there, Zuko?”

For a moment, the team worried that they’d gone too far, that they’d somehow broken Zuko by making him laugh for what might’ve been the first time in his life. Zuko doubled over himself, wheezing dazedly.

“Uhuhugh…” he whimpered, voice muffled. “Y-you’re...gohonna...pahay for that…”

The group let out a sigh of relief. If he still had the strength to threaten him, that was a good sign. 

“Don’t worry, Prince Zu-Zu,” Sokka said, patting him on the back. “Having a cute laugh doesn’t make you any less intimidating.”

“It’s nice to know that you _can_ laugh though, even if you don’t do it very much.” Katara smiled somberly. “I was worried something was bothering you, or that you weren’t happy here with us. That’s why we started this whole silly competition in the first place.”

After a pause, Zuko slowly lifted his face from his lap. His cheeks were still rosy, but he was beginning to tame his breathing. 

“But if that’s just not how you normally express yourself, that’s okay.”

The prince sat back on his haunches, still seething with humiliation, but to a semi-reduced degree. He didn’t think he’d ever fully understand the way this group functioned: why they garnered such delight out of poking fun at him and each other, why they were so concerned and endeared with his behavior and emotional expressiveness. But it was clear they cared about him, however bizarrely they chose to demonstrate it. 

“I...I am happy here,” Zuko eventually ventured to say, his voice still shrill and brittle. Hearing it out loud made him blush some more, but he continued. “I wasn’t trying to make you think otherwise. I’m just…” he swallowed. “Weird. And bad at...stuff.”

The gang snickered. “Yeah you are,” Toph said, hugging his arm. “And we love you for it.”

The firebender blinked and hinted a bashful smile. Aang placed his hands on his hips. 

“Who knows! Maybe you just forgot how to laugh for a while, but now we’ve reminded you!”

To everyone’s disbelief, a chuckle escaped Zuko, short and authentic. “Maybe,” he said. 

Then, an instant later, he shot to his feet. “But don’t _ever_ do _anything_ like that to me _ever_ again! I’ll burn down this entire hillside and run back to the Fire Nation if you even _think_ about it!”

Flames rose from his clenched fists as he glared daggers into each of them. But Aang just laughed.

“Sure you will,” Aang teased, fluttering his fingers against his side. Zuko winced and smiled, then whirled on him with a growl. 

“Touch me again, and I’ll have you doing fire lunges until you puke.”

Aang shrunk away with a nervous chuckle, folding his hands behind his back. “R-right. Sorry, Sifu Hotman.”

If anyone noticed that Zuko started laughing more after that, whether it was at Aang’s antics or Sokka’s jokes or Katara’s ridiculousness or Toph’s sass, they thought it best not to point it out. Now that he’d started emoting more positively, they didn’t want to shy him away from it. It was still small and fleeting, but it was progress from absolutely nothing. Perhaps they had helped the Fire Nation prince rediscover his laugh after all. 

But that didn’t stop them from poking and teasing him whenever the urge hit. While his everyday chuckles and giggles were great, nothing compared to the sound of Zuko’s wild, bubbly, tickle-induced laughter. And unless he firebended at them to get them to quit, they didn’t plan on stopping anytime soon. 


End file.
